After their kiss, Starr felt like her whole world had shifted, like she and Khalil were finally stepping into something they’d both been too afraid to name. They lingered in that warmth, sharing smiles and soft words in the quiet of his car, holding on to a feeling that felt bigger than the night itself. But the spell shattered when flashing red and blue lights filled the rearview mirror. Starr’s chest tightened, fear clawing its way up her throat as Khalil tried to steady his voice, his hands tense on the wheel. She wanted to tell him to be careful, to beg him not to move, but the words never made it past her lips. The gunshot rang out, splitting the air, and everything blurred into chaos—her scream, the flashing lights, her parents’ voices pulling her back The ride home was silent except for Starr’s uneven breaths and the low hum of the car. Her father’s hand was tight around the steering wheel, his jaw set hard, while her mother kept glancing back at her as if checking every few seconds to make sure she was really there, really safe. When they finally pulled into the driveway, Starr felt her legs wobble as she climbed out. Seven and Sekani were waiting in the living room, both wide-eyed, their usual playfulness swallowed up by the tension that filled the house.

Her mom guided her gently to the couch, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Baby, you’re home now. You’re safe,” she whispered, though Starr could hear the tremor in her voice. Maverick crouched in front of her, his eyes fierce but glistening, the kind of look that came from anger tangled with fear. “Tell me exactly what happened,” he said softly, though his voice carried the weight of someone barely holding it together.

Starr tried, but the words came out in broken pieces—flashing lights, Khalil’s hands on the wheel, the officer’s voice, the shot. Seven sat silently beside her, his hand resting on hers in quiet solidarity, while Sekani leaned against their mom, confused but knowing something terrible had happened. The family gathered around her like a shield, their closeness both a comfort and a reminder of what she had just lost.

That night, the house was quiet in a way Starr had never known it to be. She lay awake in her room, staring at the ceiling, every blink pulling her back to the image of Khalil slumping forward. She clutched the blanket tighter, listening to the faint sounds of her parents talking in hushed, worried voices down the hall. Her brothers’ breathing drifted through the walls, steady and innocent, but her own chest felt hollow. She wished she could go back—back to the car, back to the kiss, back to when forever still felt possible ((you play as Starr))⸻